by Raymond Nat Turner
Bomb 'em to stone man
Free-fire zone man
Jim Jones man
Villain called Drone Man
Wrong Song In The Key Of Death
(Call The Villain)
by Raymond Nat Turner
Flaming grooves burning lard off
Drumsticks and gyrating boo-tays;
Lush chords working their ways
Through Jazz clubs and churches;
Melodies reeling ribbons in from
The sky---Genius of the giant,
Master Blaster, Sir Duke of our times!
But picking politicians,Stevie's either a
Dupe, dope, dunce or dilettante played
By star-spangled charlatans---corporatists
Cloaked in Populist cotton, like Chippendale
Dancers wearing suicide vests, Senors signed,
Sealed and delivered to celebrity-worshipers by the 1%:
Like a relatively unknown man
A hugely overblown man
A corporate grown man
Political clone man
Like a Skull & Bone man
A Rhine-stone man
Testosterone man
Bellicose tone man
Bomb 'em to stone man
Free-fire zone man
Jim Jones man
Villain called Drone Man
Call the villain Drone Man
Call the villain Drone Man...
Raymond Nat Turner (c) 2012 All Rights Reserved
The race to the bottom is an imperative of austerity, which is foundational to the history of state violence in the U.S.
Another twenty-year anniversary is the World Conference Against Racism (WCAR) that took place in Durban, South Africa between August 31, and September 8. The George W.
U.S. wars in foreign countries always come home.
Contemporary conversations about racism in Cuba appear to have forgotten what it was like for Africans on the island republic before the Revolution.
For My Friend Keasley (Autumn and E-Crew, 25/22) I. In my mind—and sometimes sub-vocally—I say his name almost every day.
